


Life Support

by R1ckS1nchez



Category: Pocket Mortys, Rick and Morty
Genre: 18+, M/M, NSFW, Rick x Morty - Freeform, pocket mortys - Freeform, rickmorty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 08:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11939934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R1ckS1nchez/pseuds/R1ckS1nchez
Summary: The Rick of dimension M-160 never settled down and had kids, and therefore, never had his own Morty. This was partially due to his home planet being filled with vile man eating bugs. Eventually, he invented a portal gun, and thus, a way off of that infernal planet. After who knows how many years exploring the various universes, he finally discovered the Citadel where he set up a small shop that specialized in his favorite thing to do, the thing he was best at: making robotic limbs and cybernetic enhancements. Everything was great and he enjoyed his new life, not caring that he didn't have his own yellow clad sidekick. however, that all changed when he found an injured and malnourished Morty in a field on the outskirts of the Citadel while looking for scrap metal for a prototype he wished to make. Rick went for supplies, but wound up coming home with a nearly 15 year old boy instead.





	1. The One Legged Rick

The wayward Rick sat on a stool in his shop, glancing out past his dusty counter but not seeing anything. His eyes were unfocused as long thin fingers softly tapped on the metal of his left leg, sending slight feedback through the fabricated nerves there. He could feel his fingers on his robotic limb, but barely, almost like touching your face after it had been numbed by the dentist. Hallow thuds could be heard as he continued to tap out what might have been a beat of some sort, not that he was paying any attention to anything, including his own actions. 

This variation of Rick came from the dimension M-160, and unlike most of his counterparts, he was still fairly young and rather active despite his many injures that were fixed or patched up with his own inventions. Sure, M-160 was practically already a senior citizen at age 50, but most Rick's were well into their 60's or 70's. It was easy to tell that he was a younger Sanchez just by seeing the lack of wrinkles, even his clothing and hair style proved how young he was. A pair of gray shorts showed off the fact that his left leg was completely metal, this, coupled with his black sleeveless shirt and undercut, made it so that he barely looked like a Rick at all. One of the few reasons you could tell what he was, was the blue-gray uni brow that graced his often stoic face, as well as the lab coat he hardly ever wore that bore a green and yellow stripe on the left sleeve in honor of... M-160 had been so caught up in his own thoughts, that he hadn't noticed the tears streaming down his face. The man lifted his fingers to his eyes and laughed halfheartedly, "still so emotional, huh Rick?" the man whispered to himself. 

As he broke the silence, the dust around him almost seamed to get thicker. Why was it getting so hard to breath? The robotic legged Rick bent forward with a loud sob, practically folding in on himself, his fingers tangling in his hair and pulling it free from the once immaculate bun. it had been five years, and yet even thinking about the boy made Rick's throat feel like it was closing in on itself. He shouldn't have felt so attached, and yet, he couldn't help himself, he had never been able too. To many Rick's, that was a terrible affliction to have: emotions. Even M-160, a man who prided himself on how un-Rick like he was, sometimes thought that way too. After all, wouldn't everything be so much easier if you didn't have to feel anything? Several times M-160 had debated on inventing a chip that could be implanted in his brain to dull his emotions, or maybe even tamper with his memories so that he wouldn't have any more nightmares of his boy dying, crying out his name. He never had the guts to do it. Sure he missed him, missed his Morty with all of his heart and it hurt worse than even the injuries that lead to him being a good part metal, he could never make himself forget or force himself to loose how he felt. He mostly had horrible disgusting emotions and memories that felt like trying to trudge through tar that was on fire, but there were good ones too. 

~It had been nearly ten years before, sometime right after Rick had lost his leg, right around the time he had given his Morty a proper name: Em. The boy still sometimes got nightmares from his time with his original Rick, and he had taken to stealing the rum from M-160's liquor cabinet to help him get back to sleep when he woke up screaming. Rick didn't really care that Em was taking his alcohol, and yes he knew about it despite the boy trying to hide it at first. He himself would often get horrible nightmares that would leave him in a cold sweat, shaking violently in his sleep. M-160 knew better than anyone how hard it was to cope with traumatic experiences, but he didn't really realize letting a fifteen year old have rum was a bad idea. 

The man was working tirelessly in his workshop despite it being nearly five in the morning when a very drunk practically naked Em sauntered in. He held a partially empty bottle of rum in his right hand, the metal of the robotic limb matching Rick's perfectly. He remembered making that arm for the boy when he first found him but he had never expected him to be holding an alcohol bottle so casually with his creation. The Morty wore nothing but one of Rick's old shirts and a pair of ill fitting briefs that hung around his hips loosely, looking as if they would fly off if he moved too fast. M-160 looked up at him, half his brow raised in question. Even though he knew full well Em had been drinking his alcohol, he hadn't expected his younger counterpart to waltz in blatantly holding the evidence. 

What caught him even more off guard than Em's state of dress and drunkenness, was his question. "Rick, are you my new grandpa?" the young boy asked him as he stood in the doorway. M-160 thought for a moment before responding, "I would have had to have a kid around twelve, who would have had to have you around twelve, so no, not really." At this response, he looked disheartened, but the expression soon changed to a wide smile. "Then you must be my new dad, are you my daddy Rick?" he asked as he bounded over, the dark liquid in the bottle sloshing as he practically skipped to his new Rick. "Oh won't you be my daaaaaddyyyy?" Em asked in a sing song voice as he leaned impossibly close the Rick. the boy smelled overwhelmingly of alcohol as his face hovered inches from the older man's. In a split second, he had stood, sat the skinny youth down on the bench he had occupied up until a moment or two before, and wretched the bottle from his metallic hand with some difficulty, making Em pout. His face was red from the rum as he looked up at the other, "Come on Riiiick, don't you want to be my dadddyyyy? I'm sure you'd be good at it. You can take me places and punish me a-and do what ever you want". 

Rick had no idea what the boy was going on about, but it was definitely the alcohol speaking. "You need to calm down kid, and take it easy. I don't care if you hijack some of my booze, but you went way over board. Do you even know what you are saying right now?" rick said as he lightly gripped the sides of the others arms and looked him in the eye. Before he could do or say anything else however, Em had quickly leaned forward, placing a kiss on the middle aged man's lips. He was taken by surprise and took a step back as he released the boy's arms, blinking rapidly as if trying to make sense of what had just happened. Em frowned and looked away, "p-please don't be m-mad, I j-just want to forget.... t-to forget my old Rick...". M-160 effectively cut the boy off by pulling him into a tight hug. That was the first time they kissed, and even though there had been an underlying note of sadness in that moment because of the things Em's original Rick had done to him, he cherished that memory with all of his being.~

After taking a moment to remember one of the first times he allowed himself to show affection for the boy, M-160 wiped the tears from his face. He still missed that crazy kid, but missing him would do nothing. For all Rick knew, Em was dead and had been for five years. He had lived alone for a long time before he found Em, but Rick's home and life somehow felt even emptier than before the boy had moved in with him to help him around the shop. After a moment of reminiscing and taking the time to recompose himself, M-160 sat back up fully and fixed his hair. He wanted to look at least somewhat professional if a customer walked in. 

He looked back out on his shop, this time taking in its contents in great detail. it was a bit dusty and crowded, shelves and tables of every shape and size lining the room, piled high with all makes of robotic limbs, enhancements, and the like. The place was unorganized and messy, not that it mattered. Most of the stuff in the shop itself were for show as a good portion of the robotic parts he made were custom built to fit the wearer. This of course made the prices rather high, although rumors were he would fix up a lone Morty for free or practically free. This of course had been abused by a few Rick's to get new limbs for their Morty's they had stupidly allowed to come to harm in battles, adventures, and the like. It got to the point though, that he was just too tired to give a shit. 

Rick glanced at the clock and stood from his stool. He would be able to close up shop soon and go home, not that he lived very far. The man's home consisted of a kitchen, bathroom, and small sitting room that lay hidden from view by a large black curtain at the back of the shop, as well as two medium sized bedrooms up a rather rickety set of stairs. he was headed towards the door to lock it and turn the sign around so that it would read "closed" on the outside when the bell signaling someone had entered the shop started to ring. 

A fairly normal looking Rick sauntered in, however, there was one key difference from this man and your typical Rick. He had shaved in the middle of his uni brow to make it look like he had two separate eyebrows, the self centered prick. M-160 stopped dead in his tracks and glared at the other as if just his stare would engulf that absolute asshole in flames. "What the fuck do you want, D-557?" he asked, arms crossed as he stood still. The other Rick waved coyly at him, "Hello there Leggy, did you miss me? I haven't seen you since before your place was nearly burnt down. Glad to see you got it all fixed up though." The Rick with the metal leg's face contorted, looking like he had just smelled something rotten and then been informed he had to eat it. "Just tell me what you want and get the fuck out of my store," he retorted, not taking his eyes off of the other for even a moment. D-557 put a hand on his chest and made a face as if he was shocked and offended before saying, "oh come now, Leggy, Is that any way to treat an old friend? Besides, I have something you might want, I have information on your poor excuse for a Morty." The Rick with two eybrows paused for a moment before continuing, a wicked grin on his face as he knew what he had to say would change everything, 

"He's not dead".


	2. Finding Morty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D-557, an old "friend" that M-160 had tried so hard to forget, came back into his life. or, more appropriately, came back into his shop after getting a lifetime banishment. He better count himself lucky that good old robot leg Rick isn't in the mood to get blood on his hardwood floors. That, and the fact that he has some important information that could help Rick find just want he needs to find: Em.

At the earth shattering news, M160 took a step back, his metal foot making a heavy thud as he placed it down too hard. "What?" he managed to make out, feeling as if his throat had closed up again. Could it be possible? No. He was sure Em had died in that fire five years before. Sure he had never found the boys body, but he did find a piece of his robotic arm. It was the only part of him that wouldn't be able to burn, so he had just assumed that that is what had happened, that the rest of Em had burned to ash. But, maybe he had been wrong? He couldn't let himself be fooled by D-557 again, and yet, he also couldn't help but hope. 

The Rick with more than one eyebrow cocked a crooked grin and asked, "Would I ever lie to you, Leggy?". God M160 wished he would stop calling him that. "You know the answer to that, eye brows" he sneered. Rick wanted that filthy excuse for a human being out of his shop and back out of his life. Actually, M160 had no idea how the other had even gotten into the shop in the first place. "I have to ask though, how did you get in here anyway? I had sensors at the door that should have vaporized you if you set foot within twenty feet of this place," he said, brow furrowed as he walked towards the other slowly, hand gripped on the gun in his pocket. "Oh, you should know by now that I have my ways," D-557 replied with a wink, closing the space between them so that their faces were less than a foot apart. 

He had always been really bad at respecting personal space, a quality that M160 used to find charming. But, that was a long time ago, and now it it only made the metal legged Rick want to kill him that much more. His free hand that wasn't clasped around the handle of a weapon was slowly clenching and un-clenching as he fought the urge to punch the other in the face. He would get that smug bastard for all that shit he pulled, but he would do it after said smug bastard helped him get his boy back. Although, if D-577 was right about him being alive, Em would be a young man by now, nearly twenty five years old. His birthday was coming up, a day that M160 had always spent as a somber sort of Holiday, but if he could find his Morty, his Em, he would have a reason to actually celebrate it. This was actually around the time of year he had originally found him, although back then, the boy's name wasn't Em.

~It was like any other day that M160 spent in the citadel, with him searching through fields for scrap metal, almost wishing he hadn't become a full resident here. Sure, you could technically come and go as you pleased, but anyone trying to leave once they had filled out the papers to be allowed to live there permanently, needed a lot of paper work, paper work he only filled out when he absolutely needed to, to go anywhere outside of the citadel. the whole task was not only boring, but extremely difficult, thus, making Rick scrounge through fields and wreckage like some sort of trash picker. Granite, he did have some good metal back at his shop, but he wanted to test out a prototype and he'd be damned if he was going to waste good materials on a project he wasn't sure was going to work. 

He would have ideally liked o have a living subject to test out the new technology he had been working on, but not many people in the Citadel were willing to let him experiment on them, especially since most were either Rick's or Morty's who had Rick's who said no. M160 sighed to himself and moved a hand to his shoulder blade where his fingers just barely grazed the cold metal of the implants that he had first put there back when he lived on his original planet after... he didn't want to think about that accident. 

Any one but that one. 

Rick had left his lab coat at home, it was just too hot out for the extra layers. He was in his normal outfit of a black sleeveless shirt and gray shorts that revealed two lightly tanned legs. His lack of a normal Rick uniform really helped during days like this where it was humid and hot as hell. It was mid fall, and yet, the weather had decided to throw a heat wave at them. No matter, he still had scraps to find. 

As he was searching, the middle aged man saw something move out of the corner of his eye. His trained reflexes quickly grabbed at his gun and took aim, "If there is a living thing in there, you better get the fuck out of the grass so I can see you. I lived alone on a planet that wanted to kill me for thirty five years so if you so much as try anything, I will make a nice little hole between your eyes. Maybe then your brain will get some oxygen and you wont be so stupid as to try to sneak up on me." His fingers twitched nervously as he saw the grass rustle. Maybe he had just been seeing things. 

He put his gun away and was about to leave when he saw a head of curly brown hair make itself seen above the vegetation. He furrowed his brow and walked closer, almost grabbing the gun back out before a face popped up. It belonged to a rather thin looking Morty whose skin was covered in scratches and bruises. Maybe this was just a wild scruffy Morty, he came across those from time to time. Most were rather skittish though and would have run away by now. M160 took another step forward and held his hand out, almost like you would do if you saw a dog you wanted to pet but weren't sure if it was friendly yet or not. "Come on kid, let me help you out of there," he said, waiting for the boy to take his hand. The Morty looked terrified, but after a moment, took Rick's hand who then helped him out of the bushes and grass. 

Once he was free, M160 couldn't help but notice something. The boy's one arm was missing, his right arm. It cut off right before the elbow where the stump was poorly wrapped in yellowing bandages that were covered in old blood and puss. The Morty's filthy yellow shirt and jeans hung on him loosely, his pale skin showing through large tears in the fabric. He had obviously been out here on his own for awhile, something he could sympathize with. As the boy looked up at him, Rick noticed a look he himself had worn many times in his life. The injured Morty was deciding on whether or not to trust him.~

M160 shook his head, now was no time to be sucked up into memories. He could reminisce all he wanted after he got his boy back. "So, are you going to tell me what you know, or not?" he asked D-557 with a straight face, hiding the mixed emotions that he felt. He feared that right now, if he let up his control on his emotional state for even a moment, he would break down crying in a mix of relief and fear. "I technically don't have much information, but i know someone who does. I'm assuming You've heard of the bar, 'The Island Of Misfit Ricks'" the other told him, his smug expression still glued firmly on his face. "Yeah, I've heard of it. Isn't it owned by that guy who has eight eyes? what does he call himself again, A-rick-nid?" M160 responded, not taking his eyes off of his doppelganger for even a second as D-577 rocked back and forth before answering, "Yes, that's the one. Or AR for short. Anyway, Mr. Eyeballs sees all sorts, and not long ago, he saw a Morty that almost perfectly matches the description of Em. Although, He doesn't have a robotic arm. It looks like he used to, but most of it was cut off some how. Either way, if you want o know anything more than that, you'll need to go talk to the guy himself". 

M160 sighed as his shoulders slumped forward. He had definitely heard of 'The Island of Misfit Ricks', he had also heard that only the weird Rick's were allowed in. Hopefully his strange attire and robotic leg were enough to get him a ticket to weird ville. "alright, now get the fuck out. I need to get down there and I don't want you poking around my stuff while I'm not here," he said to the other as he went to go grab his card. He wasn't exactly rich, but he had amassed a fair amount of credits and if he absolutely had to, he wold pay to get Em back. "What, no thank you kiss?" the other asked with a mock pout as he crossed his arms. Due to the fact that there were barely any wrinkles on his face, even when he made a face like that at sixty something years old, M160 couldn't help but feel like the guy used botox. He simply rolled his eyes and grabbed the others shoulders, steering him towards the door. Once they were both outside, he set up his many security measures to make sure D-557 couldn't get back in. It's not like he had anything that the other would want to steal, it was more on principle that he didn't want that two eyebrowed asshole touching his things. It was rather childish, but he didn't really care. He had a Morty to go find, the most important Morty in the entire multiverse, and he didn't have time to deal with D-577's idiotic comments and poorly placed flirty.

What seamed like hours after leaving his shop, the Rick had finally made it into the lower levels of the Citadel. It wasn't nearly as nice as the area his shop was in, but it was much cleaner and safer than the redlight district that was only a ten minute walk away. Still, Rick hated coming down here with a burning passion, meaning he didn't come down this way very often. Social interaction was one of his least favorite things, and avoiding that was rather hard in a place like this. All sorts of Rick's could be seen, almost none of which had yellow clad side kicks by their sides. This part of the citadel wasn't exactly Morty friendly, so the Rick's that had them, normally left them at home when they had to make a trip here. 

As he made his way down the crowded "streets", jam packed with Ricks who decided chatting and making various shady looking deals in the middle of moving traffic was a great idea, he eventually saw what he was looking for. 'The Island of Misfit Ricks', or as regulars called it, Timor, had a bright blue and red sign flashing above the crowds not far from him. M160 pushed past various versions of himself and eventually made it to the thick metal door. He was surprised no one was guarding it with how strict the rules were, but then again, he figured normal Rick's just knew to stay away. 

Once he had gotten inside, the door shut loudly behind him, making the patrons turn their heads. All manners of oddities frequented the place from a cyclops, to an aquatic Rick, to one that looked like he had wasps living in his hair and sugary like substance coating his skin. M160 decided to avoid that last one, going around him the long way. Many Rick's stared at him and he returned the stares before pulling off his shirt, showing off his implants, and gesturing to his leg, "Am i weird enough for you guys, hmm? I'm only fifty, i have implants in my back so I can walk without keeling over from the pain, and my leg is a hallow metal robot leg that has a fucking flask in it. Now will ya please quit staring at me like you want to bite my god damn head off" He spat before turning towards the bar, his shirt still in his hand. 

He was used to the "normal" Rick's staring at him, but it was a completely new experience to have the odd ones stare at him too. The murmuring stopped after Rick's outburst and everyone went back to minding their own business. At least that finally shut them up, all of that needless whispering would have driven him mad. "You know I can't serve you without a shirt, right?" the man behind the bar said to M160 as he finally reached the bar. He simply grunted and nodded as he pulled it back over his head, messing up his bun slightly. He took the moment to fix it before he fully looked at the other. 

The Rick before him had eight solid black eyes that stood out in high contrast compared to his nearly white skin. the robotic legged Rick couldn't help but be intrigued and wondered how he looked to the other. Despite his extreme distaste for wasps, hornets, and the like, he actually rather liked insects, spiders especially. "I'm assuming you're A-rick-nid?" M160 said as he took a seat on a mildly sticky bar stool. What was making it sticky exactly, he really didn't want to have to think about. "Yeah, although you can just call me AR," the man replied as he did the very stereotypical bartender thing to do, and started cleaning glasses. M160 took a deep breath before looking up at the other and saying "I've been told you might have information on my Morty".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you noticed the pun in the name, well done. Also, I'm sorry this is so short, it is 5:21 am and I simply do not have the energy to write more. However, I am going to try to put more effort into writing longer and better organized chapters now that I more or less have the hang of this again seeing as I haven't really written any fan fiction since, I want to say, 2013? anyway, here's hoping anyone reading this is enjoying M160's story so far.
> 
> *Missing limbs/attributes:  
> -M160 is missing his left leg, to people looking at him, it's his right leg  
> -Em is missing his right arm from right below the elbow, to people looking at him, it's his left arm  
> -AR's eye setup resembles that of a jumping spider  
> -D577 does in fact use botox

**Author's Note:**

> This is just the beginning of what I hope will become a long story about M-160 and his boy, Em. Yes, it will eventually lead to RickMorty, you just have to be patient. Also, Em was adopted from me by my friend/rp partner Dubby and the way I portray him may no be the same way Dubby does.


End file.
